


Your Touch Is My Medicine

by otawritesthings



Series: Whumptober 2019 [1]
Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Angst, Illness, M/M, Poison, Sad, Whump, Whumptober, antidote, big sad boi hours, give the boys a cookie for their hard work and determination, sick, whumptober2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 16:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20854985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otawritesthings/pseuds/otawritesthings
Summary: /\ WHUMPTOBER DAY 1: Shaky Hands /\Isogai knew Maehara didn't feel well. Why didn't he ask him about it sooner?It came back to bite him.





	Your Touch Is My Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a m a z i n g, but it's what I whipped up so here ya go, have a cookie and some lemonade. Don't double dip.

It hadn’t looked like much of a problem earlier.

Honestly, it hadn’t, and maybe that’s why Isogai felt so guilty about it now. 

When he thought about it -- and that was something he had been doing alot of -- he  _ had  _ noticed how pale Maehara looked while they were planning Koro-Sensei’s assassination attempt, and still he hadn’t asked him about it at all (though, granted, Maehara didn’t say anything either, but that was neither here nor there). He had also observed how tight lipped the ginger had been leading up to dinner. That, he supposed, he had at least attempted to resolve, though Maehara’s distant attitude was as cold as stone, and seemingly immune to Isogai’s subtle shoulder taps or light nudges.

With every blank stare, Isogai hurt a little more.

Then at dinner he had turned his back to talk to Sugino for a few seconds and then--

“D-Dude, that’s a ton of blood!”

“Somebody call Karasuma-Sensei!”

And then Maehara had this this… this  _ noise  _ from just behind Isogai’s right shoulder, and the dark haired teen found himself whipping around so fast he nearly snapped his own neck in the haste to see what was wrong with his friend. The sound was somewhere in between a wet gasp for air and a choked wheeze. He watched in horror as Maehara crumpled into himself, falling from his chair and onto the ground with a sickening thud.

Isogai yelped and dove forward from his chair to catch him, but was too late, instead only falling weakly to his knees beside the ginger. Maehara’s brow was squeezed in on itself, and his eyebrow was twitching as he squinted his eyes against something. Pain?

“Maehara?” He whispered, lifting a shaking hand to press it against the boy’s forehead. Burning. Layered with a thin veil of sweat and the crinkles of his skin.

“Friggin’ h’rts.” Maehara slurred out, grabbing at his stomach through his t-shirt. “A-Ah, feels like I’m being ripped ap’rt.” He wheezed, and Isogai’s heart broke. 

He vaguely registered hearing a phone ring, and then Karasuma-Sensei’s voice cutting clear as day through the night, but he didn’t tear his focus from Maehara. 

How to make him feel better?

The only solution was Isogai’s half-drunk water which he poured sloppily onto a cloth napkin and pressed against the boy’s head, hand still quivering. His mind was swimming in a haze, but finally, it was coming back into focus, and he could see in his peripheral other students with violently bloody noses and collapsed on the floor. Karasuma was on the phone with someone, and he thought for a moment he was going insane and could  _ hear  _ the deep voice on the end, but then he realized that anyone and everyone who had their phone out was staring at their screens in horror and yes, they too could hear the man on the other side. 

The virus was man made. 

In order to get the antidote he required the two smallest kids left standing. 

Isogai felt sick.

A woman from the hotel passed a blanket and pillow by his knee and he numbly wrapped Maehara, taking care to keep the boy comfortable. He had dissolved into shivering against the raging fever in his bones, and Isogai could hear teeth chattering in time with the beads of sweat trickling down his nose. 

“Is’gai?” He mumbled, eyes opening blearily as the taller boy tucked him in. “Thn’k ya. Feels nice.”

“Y-Yeah.” Isogai’s voice shook, and he busied his unsteady arms with wetting another napkin for Maehara’s head in a desperate to stop the burning fire under his skin and--

“We need to go.” Karasuma was calling him, and he knew he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to  _ save  _ Maehara he would have to go.

“I-I have to--” He opened his mouth to tell Maehara that he had to go, but his tongue felt swollen in his mouth and his eyes stung. Why Maehara? Why did it have to happen to someone so light when this could’ve afflicted Isogai instead? It made him sick. 

“Go ah’d.” Maehara slurred through chapped, drying lips. “Bring me back some ‘dat antidote.” He placed a warm hand on top of Isogai’s trembling one and pulled his lips into a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And hey, please, do me a favor and stay safe? Yeah? Yeah.” Isogai’s stomach churned. How could Maehara not be worried? This virus could  _ kill him.  _ Bam. Boom. Poof. Gone. Out of all of existence. Out of Isogai’s life. The thought was  _ terrifying.  _ Terrifying enough that he could feel tears springing to his eyes, his face flushing, his heart pounding, his legs drumming against the wooden deck, his hand coming to rest on Maehara’s chest where he could feel the other boy’s heart beat because at least he was still  _ there.  _ How could Maehara not be scared?

Isogai could only numbly nod and rise shakily to his feet before following the group of healthy students out of the hotel. He shoved his shaky hands in his pockets in determination and grit his teeth against the night breeze. The phantom touch of Maehara’s steady hand lingered on his fingertips, and he bit his tongue to stop the burn behind his eyes.

He would save Maehara. 

No doubt about it.


End file.
